


theirs and ours

by izumidos



Series: Kurobas Week 2017 [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Team as Family, Teambuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izumidos/pseuds/izumidos
Summary: Despite the rest of Rakuzan having gotten over their shock at their loss at the Winter Cup and at their captain's return, Akashi is still carrying the guilt.That's where the Rakuzan regulars come in to help their dear junior.Or in other words: their basketball doesn't always start or end on the court.





	theirs and ours

**Author's Note:**

> for **Kurobas Week Day 1: Team / "Our basketball"**
> 
> i'm so glad that there's one of these for this year! it's great seeing so much more new knb content especially since this fandom is slowly dying as it's rather old :')

Despite Akashi’s hesitation and guilt, he’s appointed as Rakuzan’s captain again at the start of the next school year.   
  


He’s mostly lost the absolution of his other personality – it _is_ __ still there, though, when he truly needs it – but he can’t help but stare wide-eyed at their coach when he hears the announcement. He doesn’t understand at all why he’s been appointed again. Didn’t the coach ask the other members of first string who are third years now, and infinitely more deserving of the position?   
  


But he’s been called, so he has no choice but to step forward before he can argue the decision. His eyes dart around as he walks, lingering a second longer on the other regulars who stand by their coach silently. Aren’t they going to oppose him? Or are they truly that terrified of him that even the original Akashi Seijuro still carries the stigma of his other self?   
  


When he reaches the coach, he opens his mouth to deny the position only to get shut down before he can. It’s interrupted by the rustling of fabric and soon enough, in his hands, he gets a familiar jersey: amongst Rakuzan’s school colors of light blue and white, the number 4 stands out far too much in its black color.   
  


Akashi stares at the jersey for a moment, warring with his mind on whether or not he'll accept it, but ultimately, he bows low to his coach and offers back his jersey. He doesn’t fail to notice the surprised murmurs of both the newest club members and the regular team. (He almost calls them ‘his’ team, but that hasn’t been the case for a long while now.)

 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to deny the position,” Akashi murmurs before he straightens up again, jersey still held out to his coach.   
  


“Sei-chan!” Mibuchi looks affronted at Akashi’s declaration, breaking formation to rush over to his junior’s side. “What do you mean you have to deny it?”   
  


“It’s what it exactly sounds like, Mibuchi-senpai. After the events of last school year, I believe that I’m no longer able to lead a team properly. I would like to avoid having this year be a repeat of last year with my failures and shortcomings,” Akashi explains, not batting a single eye at his deprecating words.   
  


Mibuchi is struck completely shocked by Akashi’s admission. He knows that after the final game against Seirin in last year’s Winter Cup, Akashi had changed back to his original self, but even in his original form, he had to still possess some traits of his second personality – what happened to his bravado and confidence? To the Akashi who had led his middle school team to 3 national championships and his high school team to 2nd place in another championship in his first year?

 

“Don’t tell me that you’re rejecting the position because you feel guilty, Sei-chan?”   
  


The small wince of the redhead’s body is telling enough even if he had said nothing; Mibuchi had hit the nail on its head, and Akashi can’t hide anything anymore if Mibuchi chooses to prod further about his denial.   
  


And Mibuchi? He’s in absolute disbelief.   
  


“Sei-chan, no one’s more qualified to lead this team than you,” Mibuchi says, anger and confusion hidden in the crevices of his tone. He doesn’t like to hear this Akashi doubt himself over something that they’ve all gotten already, over something that’s bettered them in the long run.

 

Akashi just raises a brow at that claim, as if he can’t fathom the idea of them being okay with his captaincy. He’s so stuck in the past that despite Rakuzan’s, Teikou’s, and even _Kuroko Tetsuya’s_ forgiveness, he’s still feeling so guilty – it’s infuriating. Mibuchi may know his junior well, but he still can’t understand why Akashi does what he does even to this day.   
  


“Rakuzan isn’t the king for no reason, and the same goes for you being Rakuzan’s captain, Sei-chan,” Mibuchi sighs. "We’ve all faced loss before, and we made ourselves stronger because of it."

 

“But as captain, my basketball ruined not only Teikou’s team but Rakuzan’s team last year. And I am not strictly talking about our loss at Winter Cup,” Akashi explains, dead set on trying to make himself the villain. He still doesn’t feel like he’s atoned for all his sins, and it tears Mibuchi apart – Akashi’s his senior, but his junior is carrying the burden of his guilt that’s meant to be Mibuchi’s or one of the other seniors.

 

Mibuchi just stares at his junior, a sad look in his eyes. “That’s exactly my point, Sei-chan,” Mibuchi smiles softly. “That was your basketball, your other self’s. But this year, it’ll be your original self’s basketball, our basketball too. There’s no more absolution or fear of failure in our play. It’s not just you anymore, Sei-chan. It’s all of us working together like we were meant to from the very start.”

 

Akashi blinks at _that_  familiar phrase, but Hayama continues Mibuchi’s comforting before Akashi can get a word in.   
  


“Yeah, yeah, Reo-nee’s right! We can’t be the Rakuzan basketball team without our Akashi-captain. You were kinda terrifying last year, but you never threatened to hurt us! If anything, it was always yourself that you said you’d hurt, Akashi-captain,” Hayama butts in, perfectly saying what Mibuchi had been thinking all along.

 

“Even when we lost, we were still strong underneath you, Akashi, hah!” Nebuya laughs like the boisterous musclehead he is, unintentionally slapping the redhead harshly across his back. He’s oblivious enough too to not notice how Akashi has to restrain himself from wheezing all of a sudden.   
  


Mibuchi can’t say the same as he starts to look over his junior for a quick moment before he harps on Nebuya already for being so clueless towards everything besides food or muscles. Hayama just cheers on for his ‘Reo-nee’ while Nebuya takes the scolding flippantly, still laughing and carefree.

 

Akashi stays silent, momentarily forgotten as the first string argues with each other. It’s odd how easily they fall into tandem with each other in such a petty thing like an argument as he watches them interact. He should feel left out, but he doesn’t – if anything, he feels the complete opposite.   
  


He falls into tandem with the rest of the team but just in a completely different way, he realizes. And that’s when it clicks for him: that’s when basketball stops just being basketball and it starts being _their_ basketball. The type of basketball that Akashi is part of without any guilt.

 

It’s in the little things, like how Mibuchi is always ready to offer his aid or comfort to Akashi; how Hayama always freely jokes with him despite his atrocious sense of humor; and how Nebuya treats him like an equal and a captain despite being severely overwhelmed in terms of size.

 

It’s this that makes the difference, and by the time Akashi snaps out of his realization, the rest of Rakuzan are surrounding him with a knowing look in their eyes.

 

“Trust me when I say that you’ve ruined nothing, Sei-chan,” Mibuchi smiles, answering before Akashi can get a word in _again_. “Now, won’t you come back as Rakuzan’s captain?”

 

Akashi offers a slight smile, still a little weak and weary. “I suppose I can’t let my team down.”

 

“Exactly, so hurry up, and put on your jersey,” Mibuchi beams excitedly, nearly drowned out by Hayama’s cheers and Nebuya’s shouts.   
  


“Yes,” Akashi agrees softly, slipping on the familiar jersey. And as much as he had hated to accept it at the start, he can’t deny how comfortable he is in this jersey, in this position. He was always meant to be Rakuzan’s captain, wasn’t he?   
  


“From now on, it’s Rakuzan’s basketball – our basketball. We don’t know exactly what it is yet, but when we do, it’ll be together, Sei-chan,” Mibuchi reassures him, all motherly and gentle with his smile.   
  


Akashi blinks at him before a true smile graces his lips, revising his words from before and mind reminiscing about a sixth man who had uttered that same word:   
  


_ “Ours.” _


End file.
